


The Halloween Switch-Up

by dragon_temeraire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, Future Fic, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Humor, M/M, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 16:05:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12585560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_temeraire/pseuds/dragon_temeraire
Summary: Stiles has a great idea for a Halloween costume.





	The Halloween Switch-Up

**Author's Note:**

> Just some Halloween silliness! Derek and Stiles make fun of each other, but it’s lovingly, I swear.

“Come on, Derek. You know this is a great idea!”

Derek just raises an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’m even going to the Halloween party?”

“Of course you’re going,” Stiles says with absolute confidence. “I know you love Halloween, even if you try to pretend you don’t.” He grins when Derek crosses his arms, but doesn’t deny it. “And I really doubt you have a better costume around here. You can’t go as a werewolf again, that’s _cheating_.”

“It is _not_ ,” Derek says.

“Well, I vetoed all werewolf costumes for _actual_ werewolves,” Stiles says, smirking. “So here’s the list of things I need you to do to get ready for tonight. It’s not too much, you have plenty of time.”

“I never actually _agreed_ —” Derek tries, but accepts the list Stiles shoves into his hand. When he reads it he scowls, but he doesn’t say no.

 

*

 

Stiles bursts through the front door—of Scott’s house, because he was the only one willing to host a last-minute party—with his most serious frown on. He’d spent hours penciling on stubble and trying to style his hair like Derek’s, and he wants to make a good impression.

Erica starts laughing immediately, and Stiles has to work really hard not to join in.

Derek is right behind him, his shoulders somehow looking extra broad beneath Stiles’ plaid shirt. He has a pinched expression on his face that Stiles really hopes isn’t supposed to be an impression of _his_ face. It isn’t at all flattering.

“How come I don’t get a bat?” he asks, scowling better than Stiles ever could. “Isn’t that, like, your trademark?”

“I only have a bat when there’s danger,” Stiles huffs. Then he leans in close, lowering his voice. “There’s no danger tonight, right?”

Derek rolls his eyes. “I’m not actually a supernatural radar, Stiles. But as far as I can tell, there’s nothing serious brewing.”

“Cool, then you don’t need a bat,” Stiles says brightly. “I’m gonna go get a drink, okay?” Then he zooms off to the refreshment table before Derek can say anything else.

Scott appears as soon as Stiles picks up a cup of something. Fruit punch, maybe? He takes a quick sip and then says, “Dude, did you spend all day making those rice crispy ghosts?”

“No,” Scott says, not convincingly at all. “But they’re adorable, aren’t they?”

“They totally are,” Stiles says, because they really are.

Scott beams, then says, “You’re supposed to be Derek, right? You’re not being very Derek-like.”

“I figured the leather jacket would do most of the work for me,” Stiles snorts. “I still can’t believe he’s letting me wear it.” It’s a little big on him, but it doesn’t really matter, because it’s also a little big on _Derek_.

“I can’t believe he’s actually wearing plaid, _and_ that he shaved his face for you,” Scott says, glancing across the room toward Derek.

“It’ll grow back in like five minutes, it’s not a huge imposition,” Stiles huffs.

Derek’s talking to Isaac, who Stiles assumes is dressed as some sort of fashion model. He keeps trying to put his scarf around Derek’s neck, and Derek is _not_ letting it happen.

At least that’s in-character.

He hadn’t had a chance to get a really good look at the loft, but now that there’s a safe distance between them, he’s free to admire. Stiles is pretty sure Derek is wearing tighter jeans than he has _ever_ owned, and he’s rocking the plaid surprisingly well. That, combined with his clean-shaven face, makes him look just a little bit softer, a little more approachable.

He’d tried to ruffle Derek’s hair before they’d left, to make it look more like his own tousled style, but it hadn’t really worked. And Derek hadn’t even attempted to threaten him, so Stiles definitely considered that progress.

“I don’t know, man,” Scott says, and Stiles yanks his gaze away, realizing he’s been staring. “He puts a lot of effort into maintaining that perfect stubble-beard thing he’s got going on. You should appreciate that he was willing to do it.”

“You think _that’s_ surprising? Well, I was joking that I needed to drive the Camaro over here, you know, to get into character, and he actually _let me_.”

“No way,” Scott says, eyes widening.

“Yes way,” Stiles says, grinning. “And it was _awesome_.”

“I bet it was,” Scott says, then snags the empty cup out of Stiles’ hand and throws it away. “Now, come on. The joke is only funny if the both of you are standing next to each other, so let’s go,” he says, grabbing Stiles’ shoulder and guiding him across the room.

Derek’s still talking to Isaac, but Boyd’s joined them now. He’s dressed as a fireman, and Stiles gives him an impressed nod as they walk up.

“You’re not doing a very good job of acting like me,” Stiles says, because Derek’s been standing still this whole time, and Stiles definitely isn’t good at _that_.

Derek cocks and eyebrow, says, “Should I flail around until I knock something over? Maybe fall down the stairs? Would that make it convincing?”

“Well, the sarcasm’s certainly there,” Stiles says wryly. “And I didn’t _fall_ down the stairs, I slid gracefully.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself,” Derek says. Then he puts on a voice that sounds _nothing_ like Stiles. “I’m Stiles, and I’m too busy tripping over my own feet to admit I have a crush on Derek.”

Stiles feels a hot pulse of embarrassed shock go through him, then he decides two can play this game and says, “I’m Derek, and I’m too busy being scowly and broody to admit _my_ feelings for Stiles.”

He gets a half a second to catch the surprised look on Derek’s face, then Scott is shoving at his back, and he sees Isaac behind Derek doing the same thing. And they’re suddenly _close_ , and god, that plaid is really bringing out the incredible color of Derek’s eyes. There was no way he could replicate _that_.

His hand settles on Derek’s chest, bracing, and he intends to say something sarcastic, but all that comes out is a slightly breathless, “You have a crush on me?”

“Yeah,” Derek says, grabbing hold of Stiles’ jacket— _his_ jacket—and pulling him into a kiss. He feels Derek’s thumb smear the makeup on his jaw, but he deepens the kiss before Stiles can bring himself to care about it.

He’s pressed up tight against Derek, grinding a little, before he remembers where he is. He puts a little space between them, takes a shuddery breath. “Hey, you want to get out of here? I have a sweet, sweet Camaro,” he says, pulling the keys out of his pocket and shaking them encouragingly.

“And I have a ratty old jeep,” Derek says with a smirk, pulling those keys out of _his_ pocket. “So let’s take the Camaro.”

Stiles would like to defend the honor of his jeep, but then Derek’s hand is on his ass and he forgets all about it.

And he never would have thought he’d be into having sex while wearing a leather jacket, but it turns out he _really_ is.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
